


Method Acting

by QuillMind



Series: Clandestine [3]
Category: Joker Game (Anime)
Genre: Eavesdropping, F/M, Loud Sex, Messy, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Smut, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 21:54:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7775110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillMind/pseuds/QuillMind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stealing secret documents from a target on an ocean liner is one thing--getting him to believe you're not a spy is another.  It's a good thing you and Amari are accomplished performers with healthy vocal chords.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Method Acting

**Author's Note:**

> *Long exhalation of cigar smoke* Yeeeeeea, here's Monster #3, Amari! 
> 
> Inspiration largely comes from ["Ooh La La" by Goldfrapp!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uco-2V4ytYQ)

The waves were gentle this night on the luxury ocean liner, but with the way you were moving, it may as well have been in a squall. 

You were pink-faced and giggly as you teetered from one side of the hallway to the other while hanging onto your husband, Amari, for support.  He laughed as he kept you from falling over, though every time you leaned one way he would pull you back a little too hard and nearly lose his own balance.  In his other hand was a bottle of half-empty champagne.  

This was all an act, of course.  You were not married, the names on the ship's manifest were fake, and you were not drunk--or at least, not as drunk or impaired as you pretended to be. 

The ocean liner you were on carried a man of great interest to D-Agency--a Soviet deserter who was attempting to escape to America.  He carried with him a treasure trove of documents, maps and lists, that gave the location and details of a secret weapons testing facility; they were his meal ticket for the highest foreign bidder.  It was Amari's assignment to steal them away. 

A single young man attracted attention, however, which was where you came in.  Posing as newlyweds, you had managed to arrange for your room to be nextdoor to the deserter, so that Amari could track his habits and know when he would be out of the room.  To deflect the target's suspicion, you were to play up the role of a silly, love-drunk couple, and made sure you were seen by him on more than one occasion in the hall outside of your room, on the deck or in the dining room, generous in your public displays of affection towards one another.  As a result, the deserter was thoroughly made aware of your disgustingly happy and embarrassing behaviour, and now consciously did his best to ignore the two of you, exactly as planned. 

Now, the ocean liner was nearing the end of its voyage.  You had established your cover well enough. 

Time for the next step.   

You laughed as Amari kissed you along your neck, letting you slip from his grasp and lean back against the door leading to the deserter's room.  His sheer height had him shadowing you from the lights behind him, and he gave you a lustful smile before taking a dramatic swig from the bottle.  In actuality he drank only a small sip, but he kept some in his mouth to feed to you through a passionate kiss. 

You moaned in your throat as you welcomed the champagne, and the masterful tongue that swam in with it.  A quick swallow left you wanting more, and you pushed your lips onto Amari's like a needy bird. 

He smirked and pulled away to reach into his pocket for something.  Pouting, you grabbed his collar and latched onto his mouth again, seeking the delicious mix of wine and Amari. 

There was the clumsy clinking of metal as Amari tried to fit the room key into the door, but it would not budge.  He drawled out a complaint and began jamming the key into the hole even harder, but before things could escalate, the door opened from the inside. 

The target was glaring at the both of you, clearly annoyed at being disturbed.  It was only natural that he was extra tense, given that he was a fugitive who had committed treason. 

"Ohh, did we get the wrong room?" Amari laughed nervously, "I'm so sorry!" 

"Look, honey, his room is 521!" you pointed out playfully, casting the deserter an impish grin while reaching an arm inside Amari's jacket to grab his waist.  "Ours is 520, remember?" 

"Right, right.  I do apologize for this!" 

"This is the second time," the man grumbled, his features taut.  Even as cross as he was, you still caught his eyes dart at Amari's hand sliding over your hip.  "Please be more careful." 

"Yes, of course!" you said like a carefree child that was guaranteed to forget whatever lesson she was being taught in the moment.  You stumbled on the carpeted floor and dragged along the wall for a few steps before Amari pulled you closer and unlocked the correct door. 

"Mmm, I love you," you cooed to Amari sweetly, your fingers dancing over his chest sensually. 

"I love you too," Amari said, running his thumb over your lip.  No one could possibly mistake what the two of you were going to do next. 

The deserter snorted and stepped out of his room, grumbling something in Russian as he locked his door and stormed down the hallway. 

"Have a good evening!" Amari said good-naturedly to the man before vanishing with you into your room.  The door clumsily slammed shut, but your laughter could clearly be heard through the thick wood. 

In the privacy of your room, you were now holding the bottle and taking another drink of champagne, letting giggles and sighs fall from your lips while Amari stood with his ear against the door, silent and stone still. 

After a minute had passed, he opened the door a crack and confirmed there was no one around before returning to the hallway with a thick folder.  You kept a sharp eye out as Amari picked the lock to the deserter's room, then vanished into it.  Your eyes were half-lidded and you swayed against the wall like a hula dancer, pretending to fix some problem with your shoe. 

Soon enough Amari came out and locked the door again, holding the same folder but with the sought after contents.  Once you were both safely in your own room, you breathed a sigh of relief. 

"Everything all right?"

Amari nodded, flipping through the contents of the folder.  "Went without a hitch.  All he has in his safe now are worthless fake documents."  He was composed and serious, a polar opposite of the man he had shown the deserter.  He let the papers slide back into the folder and locked them in your own room's safe for the time being. 

"That's good."  You swept your hand through your hair.

Amari glanced at you meaningfully.  "Well, we're not out of the woods, yet." 

You stilled, while your heart was fluttering. 

He crossed the room to stand in front of you again, the little bit of colour in his cheeks making your throat dry. 

"Our target's a paranoid sort.  He'll be back soon enough to protect his stolen treasure, as uncomfortable as he is to be nextdoor to a couple of sex-crazed honeymooners."

"Sex- _crazed_?" you said in amusement.  "Well, I suppose his neighbours have been quite... enthusiastic on this voyage."  Thinking back to the previous days you had spent together, you could already feel yourself getting wet. 

"And tonight they've had a lot of champagne.  They've probably shed all of their inhibitions... Getting lost in each other, not caring about the mess they make, or how noisy they get..."

You chewed your lip, the act itself an invitation.  "Well it would be quite suspicious if he came back and heard absolute silence."

Amari's gaze darkened with a hunter's intent, his smile spreading widely.  "Can't have that.  We need to maintain our cover." 

It wasn't the champagne that was making heat flare inside of you, though it was definitely playing a role.  His face was so close to you, you were breathing his air. 

The corner of your mouth went up.  "So let's get started."

You were tasting his mouth again before you knew it, being grabbed by the ass and fondled by his hands as though it were some kind of incredible treasure in need of being polished.  Both of your eyes were closed, but vision was a tertiary concern as Amari wrenched you up into his arms and shoved you against the wall. 

You turned into a tumbling mess of limbs, grabbing at each other, hands pulling and pressing over clothes as if trying to break the physical boundaries of your bodies and merge into one being.  Amari swallowed your joyful moan as he ground his erection into your damp crotch, the tease driving you wild by how frustrating it was.  He slid you across the wall, your hair tangling and dragging against the wallpaper, pausing to sweep his hand over the high side table and send papers, pens, keys and several other items on it to the floor.  Once the surface was clear, he sat you down on it, deliberately a little roughly so that you landed with a smack, and gave you a sly grin before descending between your legs. 

He made it so easy for you to slip into the role of a hedonistic drunk with no concept of volume control.  Your underwear having been ripped away from your body and now laying forgotten on the floor, You gripped the edges of the mahogany table and drove your back against the wall, crying out happily at the way Amari was devouring you.  Each move he made with his tongue had you scratching new grooves into the table and bucking your hips like you were riding a horse.  But there was something else you'd _much_ prefer to ride...

With eyes half-closed, you undid the buttons on your dress and pulled it open.  The movement caused Amari to stop and look up at you, just as you were in the middle of shrugging your clothing off of your shoulders, your breasts bouncing enticingly. 

He could take a hint. 

Latching onto your chest, he licked and sucked on your nipple, occasionally opening his mouth to breathe and moan sloppily, as a man under the influence might.  Panicky gasps flewl from your lips in spades and gave you barely any mental faculties to notice him hurriedly getting his own clothes off, until he readjusted and came up to kiss you as he dove into you with one steady, flawless push. 

"AAAaahh!"  You yelled to the point of scorching your throat, banging your head against the wall in your moment of euphoria.  Shoulders bunching, forehead knotting, knuckles practically numbing themselves with how hard and long you had been squeezing the table, it was like your body was trying to balance the immeasurable pleasure by summoning pain, but nothing you did could hope to even come close to matching what Amari was able to draw out of you. 

He pushed hard and wildly into you, slapping his hand onto the wall for balance.  The table creaked and smacked against the wall along with your back and head in a telltale salacious beat, while your high yelps and his low groans provided the harmony. 

This was hardly the first time the two of you had had sex, but the headiness of the champagne and the success of the mission made you both quite motivated to make this a thoroughly loud and messy night.  If Amari were to delve into the psychology behind it, he supposed that this was how he could allow himself to gloat over his target about his victory without giving his identity away.  Not to mention, there was no better (or better feeling) way for him to make it abundantly clear that you were his.  Even in the midst of his drunken act, Amari had not missed the way the deserter had looked at you with desire, however diluted it was with vexation and paranoia. 

An unexpected clicking sound broke the patterned rhythm, and the lusty haze cleared from yours and Amari's minds a fraction to determine the cause while his cock kept pounding into you. 

A door opening and closing.  The deserter was back in his room. 

"Our audience is back," Amari whispered into your ear, his soft hair brushing your cheek.  

You whined lazily, struggling to compose your sentence.  "Then," you uttered, giving him wet kisses between words, "let's give him a show."

As soon as you said this, Amari's face became a blur as he yanked you away from the table and flopped you down onto the bed.  His dick popped out of you, and for a second you thought he had come, but then realized that the syrupy ribbons that trailed out with him were made by you.  His absence made your insides feel horribly vacant, and you whined again, arching your back. 

The wait was not long as Amari climbed onto the bed and surged back into you, but at a faster pace now.  The side table was no longer subjected to your bodies' abuse, replaced by the bed's headboard and nightstand.  The bedsprings squeaked and the walls were beginning to show marks of being repeatedly hit where the headboard and nightstand were, and several paintings rattled on their hooks. 

With your legs propped up on Amari's shoulders, his cock was stroking your G-spot with every move, making you delirious.  You gasped and whimpered, knowing that the crescendo was building.  For Amari as well, the deeper angle was making it impossible for him to keep from upping his voice to near-shouts.

There came a brief but sharp couple of pounding sounds on the wall from the other side, the deserter's way of trying to get you two to quiet down.

"Convince him," Amari grunted your name through his teeth.  "Convince him that you're not faking it."

He had to say that part quietly, to ensure the target didn't hear it and suspect that Amari was anything other than an amorous husband indulging in his new wife. The challenge of keeping his voice in check added further tension to his movements, making him go faster and harder.  Your novel and comb fell from the nightstand. 

"Convince him that you're being driven out of your mind with pleasure." 

The bedside lamp toppled over and the shade went crooked, creating a sharp spotlight across your hot chest.  Sweat made Amari's hair cling into thin spikes, and some of it dripped onto your breasts.  You were wailing and felt your eyes moistening. 

The pounding came again, more urgent and insistent this time. 

"Convince _me._ "  Amari was jackhammering you now.

A painting fell from the wall, its glass shattering as it hit the floor. 

You shattered as well, screaming, tears flowing, your body quaking like you were riding a broken wagon down a rocky hill. 

The pounding abruptly stopped. 

Amari sucked air in roughly as he beheld your stupefied expression and came immediately with a lion's roar and the force of a high-voltage current.  After what felt like minutes to him, his body finally slackened and he sank down before rolling onto the bed beside you. 

Yours eyes opened when you felt Amari stroking your face.  His skin was glowing with heat and blood, and he looked like he had just outrun a freight train. 

Still reeling from your "performance," you sighed into the sheets.  The soft swaying of the room could just as easily have been an aftereffect of the sex that you'd had as it was the rocking of the ship. 

"Mmmmm," you purred contentedly, holding his hand.  Words were slow to emit from your mind.  "Did you believe me?" 

"Definitely," he nodded.  "And I'm _positive_ he does, too.  Although..." 

You turned to face him, and he gave you a delicious champagne kiss. 

"...Once you've had a bath and something to eat, I would love to see an encore."

**Author's Note:**

> Forget stage readings, we got...
> 
> (⌐■_■)
> 
> ...A stage _screaming._
> 
> *Opening of The Who's "Won't Get Fooled Again" plays*
> 
> Btw, if you hadn't guessed, the movie I was referencing in "Magic Mirror" was _The Prestige._
> 
> Guys, I am... kind of upset at how out of practice I am with writing. I feel like I'm seriously lacking in the synonym and descriptive phrases department. I finish writing something, then a few days later review it and go "oh shit, I could've written this that way" and feel crappy and self-doubting about it. :( That said, I do consider doing these fics a good (n' dirty) exercise--it's just a matter of getting rid of the rustiness, I guess.


End file.
